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We are spending all of this money for death and destruction, and not nearly enough money for life and constructive development…when the guns of war become a national obsession, social needs inevitably suffer.
– Martin Luther King

I leaned over to my girlfriend, and conspiratorially – by heart – recited the Pledge of Allegiance: “One Nation, under God, indivisible….” Even as I said the words, I was surprised by my own fluency. How could I remember this pledge? The answer was simple: I was a product of the American education system. Thus, I spent every morning of class – Kindergarten through 12th grade – up, at attention, and announcing allegiance to my country of birth, as if it was sensitive to my voice. Without my verbal confirmation of unwavering support, the class and country would look down upon me – not just because I’d be sitting down.

Amidst my puberty, horrible awkwardness with the opposite sex, and raging hormones displaced on parents, America fought wars. I vividly remember biology class in 6th grade, when the loudspeaker croaked alive – class would be cancelled. Then, teachers sobbed and kids went home. My parents hurried as fast as they could – to hug me and check to see if I was alright. Of course I was – this was Pittsburgh, mah! But we couldn’t stop watching the news for weeks. Over and over again, the World Trade Center towers fell.

I had stood atop those towers a year prior. My 12-year-old mind couldn’t compute how some of the tallest buildings in the world became shorter than our house – the great had fallen. I was more concerned and interested with rollerblading, biking, and playing videogames.

Our leader delivered rousing messages of revenge. They would pay. To us nincompoops, “they” was this exceedingly abstract term. Who were “they?” Could you be “they?” Could we be “they?” Then “they” became “terrorists.” The terrorists who would pay.

We were told the terrorists couldn’t accept our way of life. The terrorists couldn’t understand our freedoms. The terrorists couldn’t accept our Westernized culture where women could work, roam, and divorce as they please.

Across the Muslim-majority world, America aggressed. Afghanistan, Iraq, the Horn of Africa, Libya, and other sovereign nations felt the boot of U.S. military. We killed, slaughtered, massacred, bombed, shot, and burned. Thousands of service members and “enemy combatants” died. An unknown number of civilians also perished.

When I was 17, I almost enlisted in the U.S. Army. I wanted to be a 17X (“Seventeen x-ray”). This new position short-tracked enlisted folks into a Special Forces career. I idolized their bravery, willpower, and strength. But I backed down after considering what else I could do with my life – at least for the next few years. Nonetheless, I admired every other friend and neighbor that committed to this hard choice.

All these words – written in past tense – belie the reality of my childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. Sometimes I forget we’re still at war even today. Fifteen years and counting, the War on Terror remains unresolved and unsolved. We cannot completely write these tragedies in history books and say we’ve moved onto a new chapter. We cannot say this will be last combat troop found blown up by an improvised explosive device or dictator that suffers our wrath. We’re not finished yet.

In 2015, the War on Terror was estimated to cost at least $1.7 trillion. No, writing that word – “trillion” – doesn’t do it justice. Let me write out every zero behind it.

$1,700,000,000,000.

The first three zeros are for a great day’s work. The second three zeros give you a lawyers’ salary. The third three zeros will buy you a fleet of Airbus aircraft. The next three zeros give you a greater gross domestic product than countries. And the next digit – the number for trillion – buys you a country or two or three.

This level of wealth could’ve bought us a lot of influence in the world, rebuilt our crumbling infrastructure, provided greater humanitarian relief for refugees, and more. But we didn’t think twice within this representative democracy to vote in representatives who would vote in favor of war repeatedly. Those votes were easy in comparison to providing safe bridges, smooth roads, clean water, affordable education, universal healthcare, and/or subsidizing clean energy. The initiatives that would’ve directly impacted our lives for the better – those were the partisan battles of my adolescence. And even if we enacted all those plans, we would still have money leftover to feed the impoverished, house the homeless, and have a roaring economy.

We chose war.

This choice cost us every year as taxpayers, too. About 18-20% of the federal budget goes towards “National Defense” spending. For every dollar, we burn 20% with the goal of keeping us safe. If I snatched away one-fifth of every paycheck from you, wouldn’t you do something about it? Would you let me siphon off your hard-earned dollars?

But I don’t hate all taxes. In fact, I love them! They pay for libraries, fire and police departments, National Guard troops, family members’ disability payments, and Medicare. They provide for those in need; albeit, they could do better. They provide grants and funding for disadvantaged populations to go to college; albeit, they could do better. They provide unemployment support if we lose our jobs suddenly; albeit, they could do better.

We’ve spent 15 years punishing the Muslim-majority countries without resolution. If bloodshed is not enough, are we not sick of war’s economic costs for those at home and abroad? Are we not tired of losing one-fifth of our work? Are we not tired of our worldwide reputation of war before diplomacy?

Years passed where I dreamt of serving my leaders. I wanted to take care of soldiers in combat as a psychologist. I used to take great pride in our flag, to stand with allegiance, and be a good citizen. I loved when I unwrapped my U.S. passport for the first time to flip through the pages of history and read our proud declarations of freedom. But I’ve been changed by a war more than half my life.

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Over the last month, I’ve been working on my dissertation. While writing this tome, I’m continuing clinical work at a local VA, instructing two courses, and creating scholarly papers. This might be the busiest moment of my life. And in about a month, I’ll need to hand over a draft to my adviser. And he’ll decide “go” or “no go.” My future depends on it.

The symptoms of this pressure are powerful. I’ve struggled to write, become a nervous wreck, and have unending indigestion. My stomach burbles and gurgles with unease. Simultaneously, Frugaling has been unusually quiet, and I’ve been shocked by the emails from regular readers wondering how I’m doing (you’re so sweet!). I’ve been unable to write as much as I like.

Eventually the dissertation writing will end. But I can’t help but think, I need to succeed. I’m in control of this moment, and I’ve never been more motivated.

Unfortunately, as I’ve focused on this one area, a handful of others things have faltered. Control in one category, has led to failures in others. It’s like my brain can only concentrate on a few things at once; then, it descends into reactive, non-conscious action. My reptilian brain takes over, and I let autopilot handle the controls.

My ideals of frugality and simple living have taken a back seat to this burden. Even after two years of Frugaling, I’m embarrassed to say I still struggle to maintain a budget when the stress hits the fan. With nearly every moment hunched over my keyboard, hammering away at keys incessantly, old habits are returning.

The inner voice says, “I’m too hungry to wait for home. I want to treat myself for writing so much. I need a break – give me that large popcorn.” Me, me, me, me, me. I crave candy, quick meals, and snacks at strange times. Yes, I want that fatty burger and fries. Yum! All I want is to swipe a worry away and not feel guilty for doing so. Suddenly, I can spend $60-70 in a day’s worth of food. Poof!

These moments highlight the complexity of changing a budget and spending less. We can make great alterations to our lives, and still relapse and regress. It happens. And I think I know why.

See, the first 24 years of my life, I didn’t watch spending, create a budget, cook at home, avoid student/car loans, bike to school/work, or look for ways to save. My brain developed a pathway and logic to deal with nearly everything over those years, including when to eat out, buy a car, etc. Frugality wasn’t in the mix, and it got me into 5 figures of debt.

It’s hard to change anything; especially if that’s all you’ve known. The neuronal structure has developed a keen appreciation for certain types of rewards and feedback. Simply put, my brain expects me to spend when I’m stressed. To change this pattern of behavior requires repeated corrective action, recognition of when I’m slipping, accountability from friends/family, and other reward mechanisms.

One of my psychology textbooks curiously likes to say that after about 6 months of change, a habit can stick. Well, I’m here to tell you that’s not always the case. Despite a couple years of successful behavioral change, I occasionally fight to regain control and relapse to old spending.

Various factors work against me. Twenty-four years of bad habits and a society full of encouraging messages about immediate gratification stack the deck. It’s an uphill battle, but I’m better at waging it than ever before.

I might not have perfected my budget but change has occurred. Today, I can realize when everything is falling apart – spending has gone haywire – and stop. Today, I can write this letter of accountability to you all. Today, I can admit faults while acknowledging strengths.

Frugality isn’t about dogma or perfection. We’re on a journey – together – to find ways to save, spend less, and recapture control when we lose it. There’s power in these lessons and the brain – while stubborn to change – does slowly cooperate.

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When I talk about frugality, I tend to focus on saving money, living simply, and making more. It’s a winning combination. By combining all three components, I knocked out nearly $40,000 of student loans, a car loan, and credit debt.

Unfortunately, I sometimes develop fatigue from concentrating on ways to prevent spending. It’s tiring to always keep watch for wasteful spending, and easier to simply swipe a card.

Thankfully, strong reasons such as reducing climate/carbon impact and disdain for contributing to major banks’ profits keep me motivated. I have a purpose, rationale, and philosophy undergirding everything I do. Without these, I’d fall off the wagon and spend crazily again.

Ironically, part of the reason I live this way is to spend money. I mean it. I save and save and save to spend money. Crazy, right?

The difference, now that I’m without debt, is that when I purchase something, there’s no interest against me. I’m following the age-old wisdom of the financially privileged/savvy to be liberated from banks’ powers to constrict and restrict.

Without loans and carried credit card balances, I’m free. And now, I can spend it the way I’d like. So after all the money gets deposited, invested, saved, what do I actually spend it on? What are all these efforts good for?

Since I’ve embraced frugality, three major spending areas continue to be of importance:

1. Travel

I’m currently in graduate school, which keeps me restrained from many travel opportunities. Frankly, that’s probably a good thing for my budget. But every now and then, I can save and purchase a flight — all interest free.

Most of my money actually gets spent to see family twice a year. Although, this fall break I’ll be going to Colombia!

When I fly, I look for the best deals possible by shopping various sites, check my frequent flyer mileage accounts, and book about 1.5 to 2 months out. I tend to decline most forms of trip and travel insurance, as my credit card provides those benefits for free. When I land in a new destination, I immediately try to find local shops and supermarkets to try and stock up on a few snacks/non-perishable foods. This planning allows me to experience the local cuisine and cultural foods, while managing the budgetary blast.

Travel is exceptionally important to me, but it has a powerful price tag. I don’t offer unsolicited advocacy for travel and don’t recommend that people travel to some faraway place. The fact is that travel remains relatively expensive, and it’s one luxury that I’ve been able to partake in with a positive net worth. It’s okay if you can’t travel today. Save for that opportunity.

Throughout my life I’ve always given money to charity. Regardless of my current debt load, I’ve made efforts to give to others in time and donations. Today, charity holds great importance in my life, as I can give without going into debt. Every dollar to my favorite charities doesn’t represent a dollar to a bank, which will be placed under a horrific interest rate.

3. Professional opportunities

As a graduate student, I get paid a small stipend to work and study. Soon, I’ll be applying for internships (similar to a doctor’s residency) for counseling psychology. That process may cost $2000-3000, but is an essential part of the process to get a Ph.D. Afterwards, I’ll hopefully be hired at a site and begin to have more substantial paychecks.

Having my own savings allows me to pursue various options for employment without going into debt. Additionally, the process of becoming a licensed psychologist, which I desperately want, requires a formal examination. The test costs thousands of dollars – not to mention the study materials. It’s another area I’m saving and planning for.

From travel to charity to academic opportunities, these options became possible after I paid off the debt. Previously, I used loans as a method for travel and adventure and even giving. But I was simply digging into a deep, dark hole of debt. There was little hope or light before. All I can say is that good things come to those who can cut costs and pay off their debt fast.

A lot has changed during my journey to change my debt. What you’ll notice is that I’m not saving for a car, house, or large physical objects. I’m a product of the Great Recession, skeptical of big banks, and not ready to make such financial commitments. As such, I cannot envision taking on a mortgage, car loan, or anything else at this time. For now, I’m free from the trappings of debt and living well.

So what is your frugality good for and where do you ultimately spend money?

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Recovering from financial calamity is fraught with con men, pyramid schemes, get-rich-quick guides, and work-from-home advice. Each of these examples provides a “solution” to debt. With their help, they suggest you can recover and live a better future.

When I was in debt, I wanted a quick fix. Unlike consumption, where it was effortless to swipe a credit card, recovering from debt meant putting the breaks on everything. All the momentum – from advertisements to cultural upbringing to environmental expectations to relationships – was moving me in one direction. I needed to stop, and didn’t know how or who to turn to.

Unfortunately, many of these methods fail to help people in need. They miss the mark, take advantage of those with less, and tend to only work for a small portion of the population.

A couple years ago, I remember wading through my Gmail spam folder, wishing that loan payment and relief emails were true. They marketed special exemptions and “secret” deals to wipe the slate. These clear scams seemed like magical oases of monetary support. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could click three times and my debt would wash away?

The reality is we share two equations for our financial lives:

Income – Expenses = Net Income/Loss

Free Time – Work = Net Free Time

We all know it, but how we approach these solutions varies greatly. We can add to our income through wealth, jobs, or advocating for pay raises. Similarly, we can reduce our expenses by cutting cell phone bills, reducing energy expenditures, or selling a car. What remains is our net (total) positive or negative number. If we are all constrained by these equations, creativity must occur on both ends – with income and expenses.

Today, I advocate for people to reduce expenditures before adding on more income opportunities. Frugality helps people minimize spending and prevent spending – thus heightening net income. By removing expenses, we tend to simplify our lives and work less. Hence, those who pursue frugality first are able to free up time.

While I realize the necessity of work, we live in an overworked and underpaid society. If we can manage to spend less, our lives can be fuller – across economic strata. Free time is a dying quotient across age groups. Even children have less time for recess! Fun, free play is at the heart of creative discovery. When we’re overworked, stress levels spike and life becomes a dull day of shower, eat, wash, repeat.

Before pursuing scams and “special offers” that tack on more qualifiers and hoops, consider reducing your workload by removing anything extraneous. Subtraction is easier and safer than working longer hours, picking up a second job, or working on side jobs. Likewise, it helps you stay psychologically and medically well – not overworked and near the brink.

Start with frugality. Remove all the superfluous from your budgets and lifestyle. Likely, there’s room for less.